A thick, visceral dampness began to encroach upon his senses, enveloping every inch of Long's skin as if his entire body had been submerged in a colossal mass of liquid gelatin. The briny sting of the ocean surged into his nostrils and throat, leaving a trail of searing heat and bitter constriction.
His vision was swallowed by the abyssal gloom of the deep sea. Far above, faint, fragile rays of light flickered from the surface—pathetic streaks of silver that only served to outline the trembling shadows. Yet, within this crushing pressure, there was no pain. Instead, every muscle fiber and joint felt loosened, kneaded by invisible, tender hands as if undergoing a profound, full-body therapy.
He drifted deeper, gravity dissolving into nothingness. But the silence was abruptly shattered. A long, serpentine shadow, undulating like a silken ribbon of death, streaked past. It coiled around him with terrifying velocity, creating swirling vortexes that constricted his chest—a herald of a majestic presence rising from the void.
The overwhelming aura crushed his senses, snapping Long's eyes open. Instantly, a jagged pain, like a thousand needles piercing his retinas, forced them shut again. The concentrated sea salt burned through his membranes. His lungs seized, spasming violently as his instincts screamed for oxygen. His hands clawed desperately through the heavy, suffocating liquid, searching for a breath of air that did not exist.
Just as his consciousness began to fray, a deep, resonant voice echoed through his skull like rolling thunder: "Relax, Little Dragon. This is your domain. Open your eyes and look up."
As if hypnotized, the tension in his muscles dissolved. Long ceased his struggling, letting himself drift within the tides of pressure. He slowly peeled his eyes open once more. This time, there was no sting. Instead, a soothing, cool sensation washed over his corneas, extinguishing the burn. The suffocation vanished; though his lungs remained still, oxygen seemed to permeate directly through his pores, surging into his burning veins.
The surrounding space thickened into a shroud of black velvet. Before he could react, two golden orbs, blazing like twin suns, ignited the dark. This was no ordinary light; it carried a crushing gravity that made every water molecule tremble.
A colossal creature emerged from the abyss, its endless coils encircling him like a magnificent, silent cage. Emerald scales, harder than diamond, brushed against Long's skin with a chilling touch and tiny sparks of static electricity. A regal horn pierced the void, radiating the aura of an ancient deity.
The voice resonated again, vibrating through Long's very ribcage: "Do not fear... It is quite absurd to be afraid of your own self."
Long froze at those words, but in an instant, a blinding white light erupted, scorching the pitch-black void.
In a haze, the familiar ceiling of his home came into focus. The dampness of the sea vanished, replaced by the soft, radiating warmth of a girl's hand pressed against his chest. Long turned his head with effort, meeting Lia's violet eyes, which were brimming with intense worry. But before a word could escape, a violent contraction exploded in his stomach. It wasn't mere hunger; it was a howling black hole, demanding a terrifying amount of energy.
The world's sound faded. His vision blurred, leaving only the image of a panicked Lia pulling him toward a wooden table. Piles of raw, crimson snake meat—freshly butchered from the night before—exuded an irresistibly "delicious" aroma. Saliva flooded his mouth, leaking past his teeth uncontrollably.
Stripped of human reason, Long lunged. His fingers clawed into the cold, slimy flesh as he tore into it with primal ferocity. He swallowed chunks of the tough meat almost whole, without chewing. Only after kilograms of raw flesh had vanished into his bottomless stomach did the frantic energy snap. Long's body collapsed like a falling tower, plunging back into the deep sleep of a predator that had finally been fed.
Lia rushed to catch him, but his transformed weight forced her to her knees on the wooden floor. She gently pulled his head onto her soft, porcelain thighs, offering her warmth to soothe the tremors racking his frame. Her small, trembling hand brushed through his sweat-matted hair before pressing against his chest.
Instantly, a violent surge of energy recoiled against her palm. Long's heart was pounding with such ferocity—each thud dry and powerful, like a beast trying to shatter his ribcage to escape. Seeing his face contorted and the muscles in his neck straining in pain, Lia's heart wrenched. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, splashing and dissolving upon his pale face.
"I'm... I'm sorry," Lia's voice trailed off, vanishing into the silence.
For a long time, Long's consciousness was trapped in an endless loop between agonizing hunger and profound exhaustion. The hunger gnawed at him like a parasite, forcing him awake to devour the snake meat by instinct before collapsing back into slumber.
Then, he woke one final time, a sensation of unprecedented comfort spreading through his neural pathways. Long opened his eyes. The gloom was gone, replaced by the sharp, rhythmic crowing of a rooster from across the garden. His vision was sharper than ever; every grain in the wooden ceiling and every speck of dust dancing in the morning light stood out in high definition.
Long moved, feeling his hair—now grown past his shoulders—brushing against his bare skin. He sat up abruptly, staring in shock at his own body. His once-pale, scrawny frame was gone. In its place were dense, powerful muscles, etched with the rugged definition of stone-carved statues.
As his thoughts drifted to Lia, the bedroom door creaked open. A familiar figure stepped in, but she looked different. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun, and she wore a small apron, radiating the aura of a devoted wife. Carrying a tray of steaming food, her violet eyes sparkled as she spoke in a sweet voice:
"You're finally awake. Are you hungry?"
Startled by the sudden change in her manner, he cast a guarded gaze toward her. His voice was deep and gravelly, a new resonance born of his awakening:
"How long was I out?"
Lia stiffened, her grip on the tray trembling slightly. She answered softly, "Yes... You've been like this for two weeks."
Long's eyes narrowed, his pupils contracting into sharp, reptilian slits. He fixed his gaze on the girl he once loved, interrogating her coldly:
"Tell me. What is your true intention?"
The question was like an icy blade cutting through the warm morning air. Lia's heart wrenched; a sharp pang echoed through her chest as she faced that estranged look. Her stomach churned with a hollow ache. She trembled, her voice barely a whisper:
"Deep within the dungeon... lies an ancient crystal of the Elven race. It holds the primal mana needed to restore the dying Mother Tree. Whoever possesses it... will become the next Spirit Queen..."
Long let out a heavy sigh, a wisp of heated vapor escaping his teeth. He let out a cold, bitter chuckle:
"Ha, so that's it? You want me to go in there and get it for you? You fed me that monstrous flesh just so I'd grow strong enough to be your tool, didn't you?"
Lia recoiled as if struck by a physical blow, the color draining from her face. Panicked, her lips drifted as she tried to clarify: "No... no, it's not—"
"THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST TELL ME FROM THE START?"
Long roared. His voice carried a raw authority that made the very air in the room vibrate, causing the glass trinkets on the shelf to rattle violently. Lia froze, the tray in her hands wavering.
His voice suddenly dropped, turning low and heavy with a heartbreak more bitter than his previous scream:
"You kept everything in the dark, shrouded in mystery... I truly loved you, but it turns out I was nothing more than a pawn for you to use."
Bitter tears streamed down Lia's pale cheeks, her petite shoulders trembling violently like a leaf in a storm. She no longer looked away; instead, she gazed directly at Long through eyes blurred with sorrow:
"Long, I truly didn't mean it that way. I... I was scared. I was terrified that if I told you, you would refuse. I'll make it up to you... I'll do anything you want, just please... help me."
Long didn't answer immediately. He lowered his head, his massive hand covering half of his darkened face. A bitter laugh erupted from his heaving chest, his voice now thick with a razor-sharp irony:
"Oh? Are you planning to toss this 'dog' a bone just to make him do your bidding?"
Those words were a fatal blow. Lia stood there, stunned, her entire body swaying. In a sudden burst of raw emotion, she hurled the food tray aside. The metal collided with the floor with a deafening clang, scattering food everywhere. Without another word, she bolted out like a shadow, slamming the door with such force that the walls shuddered and dust trickled from the ceiling.
Long's gaze softened with regret as he stared at the ruined meal. He stood up and headed for the wardrobe, but every shirt he picked up felt ridiculously small against his broad shoulders and expanded muscles. The sound of fabric straining to its breaking point served as a stark reminder of his irreversible change.
Helpless, he remained shirtless and knelt to clean the mess. As he carried the tray out, the sound of muffled sobbing from the next door pierced his heightened hearing. The cries were broken and stifled, causing Long's heart to wince with a sharp pang of guilt.
Entering the kitchen, he was struck by a new sense of order. His khứu giác caught the clean scent of lemon and floor wax. The house, once neglected, was now strangely spotless. Not a speck of dust remained. He glanced through the window; the chickens were pecking at grain, looking fat and healthy.
It turned out that for two weeks, this small girl had carried the entire weight of this household alone. She hadn't just fed him; she had tended to the soul of the home that belonged to his grandfather. A crushing weight of guilt settled on his shoulders. He looked at the leftovers and whispered:
"I wonder... has she even eaten anything yet?"
Long stood before her door, his large hand hesitating against the rough wood. He knocked softly, the sound dull in the heavy atmosphere.
"Lia... have you eaten? Can I come in?"
Only a dense silence answered. He turned the knob, the hinges letting out a faint creak. The moment the door opened, a pillow whistled through the air along with a choked scream:
"GET OUT!"
Long caught the pillow mid-air with lightning reflexes. He looked toward the bed, where Lia was curled into a ball, her face buried in the shadows of her pain. He quietly climbed onto the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight. As he reached out to touch her, she jerked away, shaking with resentment:
"Who gave you permission to touch me!"
Her violet eyes, swollen and bloodshot, cast a look of utter hatred at him. Without giving her a chance to retreat, Long decisively pulled her petite body into his firm embrace. Lia shrieked, struggling frantically, and in a fit of rage, she sank her teeth deep into his bare shoulder until blood began to seep.
Long winced as the sharp sting pierced his muscle, but his grip didn't loosen. Instead, he gently placed his hand on her disheveled hair, stroking it slowly. His voice rose, warm and protective:
"I am sorry."
Lia slowly released her bite, the metallic tang of his warm blood lingering on her lips. Her resistance vanished. She let her body go limp, curling herself tightly into Long's broad, radiating chest—seeking the only safe harbor left.
Sobs erupted from her small frame, her shoulders heaving with every jagged breath. Her hot tears soaked into his shoulder, mingling with streaks of fresh crimson. Long remained silent, simply tightening his embrace, using his body heat to shield her. The room was filled only with her broken whimpers and the steady, grounding thrum of Long's heartbeat.
Under the soothing hand slowly stroking her disheveled hair, Lia's final defenses completely dissolved. The exhaustion from her frantic resistance, combined with the sheer depletion after her sobbing fit, made her eyelids grow heavy. She could no longer resist the gravitational pull of sleep. She nestled deeper into him, letting herself drift into a profound slumber amidst the radiant warmth emanating from Long's powerful chest. In the stillness of the room, only the sound of their rhythmic breathing remained. Long held her petite frame in silence, feeling the weight of her trust leaning against his arm.